


Silver

by Minita



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:20:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24172717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minita/pseuds/Minita
Summary: Sansa has children sired by wolves, Jon just happens to be staying at Winterfell, just a coincidence. *wink *wink
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 9
Kudos: 95
Collections: Jon x Sansa Drabble





	Silver

The Queen in the North loves her people and her people love her. So much so that no one speaks ill of her, and everyone chooses to believe her children have been sired by wolves. No one points out that her cousin the Queenslayer seems to never leave her side, and has even being present at both her births. Her first a handsome prince of six, tall and pale, with an unmistakable Stark face and wild dark curls that is the Northerners joy and hope, a Stark that must always be at Winterfell, they say.

Little princess Lyanna has just had her third name day. She could not be more different from her brother. Petite and spirited, she plays with boy’s toys and shows up bruised and exhausted to her mother’s chambers for a bath before bed every night. No matter how busy or tired, the Queen will let nobody wash her daughter’s hair. The child is pretty like a rose, her big eyes of a blue so unique some confuse with purple. Her hair is abundant but a lustreless chestnut, not at all as radiant as her mother’s.

Tonight she falls asleep in her uncle’s arms. Sansa sees Jon’s frown and squeezes his hand. As always her touch melts him, and he speaks his heart.

“How long, Sansa, how long will you keep dying her hair?”

Fear tugs at her heart, but she knows how to be brave. “In a few years when she’s older and peace has taken a good hold on Westeros.”

Jon nods, his trust in her as solid as the roots of the weirdwood tree where they took their secret vows one night years ago. “I don’t want my daughter to grow ignoring the truth like I did. I want her to know who I am. And who...my father was.”

Sansa hugs him and the child that the Gods in their infinite wisdom have given her, not with fire in her hair but with ice, a silver so pale that when revealed will send sparks throughout all Westeros.


End file.
